Down the Rabbit Hole
by imskysmom
Summary: Tag to The Hive, because NO ONE gets through withdrawals THAT easily! Zelenka POV
1. Chapter 1

McKay stared through the glass front of the cabinet, ignoring his own reflection. Ignoring the wide, white-rimmed eyes, the crooked mouth open, gasping, the trembling hand reaching for the latch. Then the panic rushed up, filling his head, roaring in his ears and he spun away from the face he saw in the glass.

"**Are you an idiot?"** he muttered, wringing his hands, sweat cold and prickling between his shoulders. He knew what would happen. He knew it would be bad. He remembered after he'd eaten the dose Ford had laced their food with. He could feel it skittering along his nerves, his skin, muscles twitching randomly. Time was sliding away and he forced himself once more to turn and face the image in the glass.

"**Desperate times, desperate measures."** It didn't lessen the terror fizzing and sparking in his head, but he reached to open the door, his hand hovering only for a moment before reaching for one of the large vials of enzyme. **"That's one hell of a karate chop,"** he whispered to himself.

It had taken him a moment to fumble the protective cover from the syringe needle, and when he twisted the cork from the bottle, a little had splashed out onto his hand. Without thinking he had licked the drops from his fingers. It had tasted bitter, like gall. He spluttered violently, almost retching, and then froze, terrified Ford's goons had heard.

He stripped off his jacket, scrubbing the sweat from his face with it, and dropped it to the floor. Taking a deep breath, the cold, dusty musty dank of the cave filled his head. The fear clenched at his gut but he picked up the syringe, carefully inserted the needle into the pinkish-red fluid and filled the hypo. The first injection was a thin ribbon of fire tracing up his arm. The second one became a band, blazing and twisting up his shoulder, squeezing his heart in a fiery fist. He could hardly see to inject the third, a rush of heat flooding through his body, his brain on fire, his eyes burning from the heat. After an endless moment he could see again but his vision seemed to flicker around the edges. He felt too large to be encompassed in his own skin. It was exhilarating; it was terrifying.

"**Lock and load."**

He was surprised the two goons couldn't hear him coming. He almost felt sorry for them, but at the same time felt a fierce joy. In the back of his mind he could hear a terrified keening from the part of him that still had not succumbed to the rush from the enzyme. He giggled a little and stepping around the corner, flung himself at the guards. Everything seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. He watched the first guard fly away, floating on the air. As he threw a roundhouse punch at the second, the slick fabric of his shirt slid across his shoulders like sandpaper. Snatching the bottle from the box they'd been using as a table, he broke it over the guard's head, then smashed his fist into the man's face, sending him crashing into the crate.

"**And that's what happens when you back a brilliant scientist into a corner!"** he shouted over the white noise in his head.

He never felt the second guard coming, and the fear gripped him tightly when the man punched him, snapping his head back. He groped frantically at the guard's face, trying to break the grip the man had on his throat, and then the rage was back and he broke free, aiming a clumsy but powerful kick that dropped the guard. He watched with satisfaction as the guard collapsed and didn't get back up. It was getting harder to think. His blood was roaring in his ears and the keening was getting louder again.

"**Re..re-focus,"** he slurred, and staggered unevenly toward the part of the cavern that Ford used as an office. Rummaging through the desk, he found the crystals and gasping for air, headed for the DHD.

The world spun around him and the grass of the meadow was slippery under his feet. He collapsed against the DHD and with fumbling fingers inserted the crystals.

"**Big dose, big big dose,"** he singsonged to himself. **"But you needed it to lay out the guards**" He knew he was babbling; his lips were numb. **"'You want the crystals, you're gonna have to go through us,'"** he mimicked the guards. "**Well, I went through you all right, didn't I? ****Like a knife through jello – no – er, butter? Knife through butter? Oh man…Rodney, focus, must finish dialing.****" **His heart was beating so fast it was making him shake. He was talking but it wasn't making any sense as he dialed Atlantis. **"Please work, please work, please work,"** he chanted before pressing down with both shaking hands and lifting his head to stare at the gate through blurred eyes. The gate bloomed to life and only one thought kept him on his feet. **"Okay, go home."**

The cold of the wormhole barely touched the flames burning him up from within. He strode through the event horizon, hand raised triumphantly.

he'ddoneithe'dmadeithewasheretheywouldlistentheywouldsavehisteam

He saw Weir rushing towards him down the stairs and her image wavered like a sun dream.

"**I know what I need to do."**

"**Rodney? What's happened? Where are the rest –"**

"**There's no time, no time. They're on a planet. Not Ford's, the one the ships are headed towards, we need to get there and we don't have much time. I was barely able to escape myself but I managed to take out the guards. Oh, you should have seen me, I was _amazing_. I wish we got it on camera. That's not the point."**

"**Rodney. Slow down. Are you all right?"**

"**Yes, yes. I mean, um, I don't know. I did take out the guards and they were huge, dumb and stupid – "**

"**What guards?"**

"**Ford's guards! I didn't mention Ford?"**

"**No, you didn't. You haven't mentioned Sheppard, Teyla or Ronon either!"**

"**Yes! They were there too! And there were the two guards! They were huge and massive and I had to take them out so I had to inject the enzyme."**

"**You took some of the enzyme?"**

"**No, no, no, no, no! I didn't take _some_ of the enzyme, I took a _LOT_ of the enzyme. Because I had to take out the guards. Which I did. And you should have seen me, I was _amazing_."**

"**Are you _insane_?"**

"**Yes, yes, now that I've taken the enzyme, yes."**

"**Rodney, focus. Where is Colonel Sheppard?"**

He had to make her understand what he'd done, how amazing and heroic and idiotic and insane it was. It was important that she understand, his team, the ship…

"**No, no, no, I had to take the enzyme because I had to take out the guards! But that's not the point. The point is, we don't have enough time! We need to stop the ship from getting to where the ship is going."**

"**Come on, come on, let's take a walk down to the infirmary."**

If she'd just listen, if he could just explain… he twisted away from her hands.

"**Wwww, where are we going, what are you doing? No, no, no, no, no, I don't want to go to the infirmary. I want to go to the –"**

He could hear the wailing again now, getting louder…there was something he had to tell her, had to tell all of them, and the heat came spilling out of him, red, and then black.

oOo

Zelenka stood at the end of the corridor absorbed in the piece of copy paper on his clipboard, taking quick furtive glances as McKay was wheeled in on a gurney. Idly he fingered the old, ugly computer chip he habitually carried in his pocket, tracing the Cyrillic letters. The smallest of smiles twisted his lips, thinking of his old comrades, back when this was all he had to work with. The smile faded as he remembered losing them, the old pain familiar and sour in the back of his throat. It could be very useful to have a listening device handy to tap into communication systems. Not that Elizabeth would ever… He turned away from the thought.

He could see the dark patches of sweat marking McKay's grey shirt. Already the word had run before McKay throughout Atlantis; and the rumor was confirmed by the sight of marines taking up watchful positions around the infirmary. No one was willing to repeat what had happened with Lieutenant Ford. Zelenka resisted the urge to rush down the hall, demand information from one of Beckett's nurses. Maybe the one with the long, dark hair and the nice ass who looked like his cousin's Croatian friend… He bit his lip. McKay would hate knowing everyone was talking about him.

At the same time he was unwilling to just go quietly back to his lab. He took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. As he stood debating internally, Dr. Simpson came around the corner. She looked relieved when she spotted him.

"Radek, I heard that McKay is back?"

"Yes, he is back," Zelenka admitted unwillingly.

"Is he all right? I could really use help dislodging Morgan from the electron microscope." She tapped a finger on the touchpad she held. "He's been monopolizing it since the Daedalus brought it and some of the rest of us have deadlines to meet!"

"He is," and Zelenka paused. "He is in the infirmary. I do not believe he will be available for some time."

Simpson's mouth tightened and Zelenka forced a grin.

"It is nothing. You know how protective of him Dr. Beckett is since the little incident with Lieutenant Cadman," and he smirked. Simpson rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes, the kiss." She sounded bored. "Honestly, Radek, I didn't think you were that childish."

He held up his hands. "Guilty as charged." It was foolish. She would find out the truth soon enough. But he couldn't bring himself to betray McKay's secret. "It is, perhaps, something I could assist you with?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "It's all right. It's just handy having McKay available to bluster." Zelenka grinned again, this time without thinking. For all that they complained about the Canadian's acidic personality, when handled adroitly it was certainly useful. "Let me know just how long it's gonna be before Beckett turns him loose," she added casually over her shoulder without looking at him.

Zelenka realized it was not so casual after all. Nothing so clumsy as sexual interest, but something much more rare and valuable. McKay seemed to inspire a dogged loyalty in those smart enough and savvy enough to look past the horse's ass exterior he wore so determinedly. Zelenka stood still a moment, considering his options. A voice through the com in his ear made the decision for him.

When he met Dr. Weir in her office a few moments later, he was surprised, and then not at her calm expression.

"How is he?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. Her face lost a little of it's objectivity and she tried to smile.

"Dr. Beckett is evaluating him right now," she answered, looking down at her desk. "He injected himself with the enzyme. Apparently it was the only option he saw open that would allow him to escape."

"From who? Where has he been? And where is Colonel Sheppard?"

"And Teyla and Ronon?" finished Weir, looking frustrated. "I'm hoping he'll be able to tell Dr. Beckett more, or at least that it'll make more sense to Carson than it did to me."

"So right now there is nothing to do?" asked Zelenka. He sank into one of the strange couch chairs in her office and closed his eyes. His head swam. He hadn't slept more than a couple hours since he'd tried to find the address of the last gate dialed from the planet of SGA-1's last mission.

He had tried to convince Weir to let them go back in the days that followed, but she had insisted he was more valuable here overseeing the science contingent. That if it were possible to retrieve the information he would have gotten it that first time. He scratched idly at the fabric of the couch with one broken fingernail, thinking about the gate address and idly calculating the thousands of possible permutations of the fifty addresses he'd managed to retrieve. What if they used fingerprint dust to check for which glyphs had been pressed by Sheppard's team? That would at least reduce the number of possible combinations from thousands to hundreds.

"…dek? Dr. Zelenka?"

Abruptly he became aware that Elizabeth had been calling his name for some time now. He struggled out of the death grip the couch had on his ass and stood up hastily.

"Of course. I would appreciate if you would keep me informed of Dr. McKay's condition?" he requested stiffly, and then realized from her expression she must have just assured him she would be doing that. Unexpectedly she reached across the desk and squeezed his arm gently.

"I know you're worried, Radek. Believe me, I'll let you know as soon as I have any news."

"I have heard Kavanagh is returning. I have no wish to deal with him in Rodney's place," he dissembled, fiddling with his glasses, feeling color climbing up his neck and prickling his ears.

"Of course," Weir agreed solemnly.

With more haste than dignity he left the office and headed to his lab.

oOo

Three times he carefully and incorrectly assembled and then disassembled the probe he was customizing to analyze gas giants before giving up. He was used to McKay's side of the lab being empty while the other scientist was on away missions, but it distracted him more today than usual. He decided to take a walk, try and clear his head, knowing exactly where he'd find himself. So when he came upon Beckett, standing rumpled and weary in the hallway, a cup of steaming coffee in his hands, he didn't pretend. Or at least, not for long.

Peering into Beckett's cup, he sniffed. "I thought the English only drank tea?"

Beckett regarded him sourly. "If you're looking for information, lad, that's not really the best way to go about getting it."

Zelenka adjusted his glasses looking slightly sheepish. Beckett snorted and sighed. "He's holding his own now. Not surprisingly he's giving us a blow-by-blow account of the horrors of withdrawal." Struggling to keep his face impassive and failing, Zelenka stared at Beckett, his eyes wide with shock.

"W-w-withdrawal?"

Beckett looked surprised. "Didn't Elizabeth tell you he'd injected himself with the enzyme?"

Zelenka nodded, shaken. "But she did not say anything about addiction. How much did he take?"

Sighing, Beckett ran his hands over his face, scrubbing at his eyes tiredly. "His levels were close to Lieutenant Ford's. It's been a long, miserable night and who knows how he'll be affected long-term. We've not exactly been able to monitor young Aiden."

"Well," Zelenka managed finally to croak through lips stiff with shock, "only thing Rodney is good at sharing is misery."

Beckett huffed a little and took a long swallow of the coffee, grimacing. "I'd best get back to him," and as he spoke, a nurse appeared at the doorway to the infirmary.

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Zelenka, reeling from the shock and worry still humming in his ears like radio static. He reached behind him without noticing, steadying himself against the cool smooth Ancient walls.

Beckett shook his head, running a hand through his hair, making bits of it stick out in several directions. He rubbed at his chin and Zelenka could hear the rasp of his unshaven jaw under his fingers.

"Just a matter of toughing through it, I'm afraid. Once he's safely on the other side, no doubt he'll need someone to talk to." He looked regretful. "Somehow I doubt I'll be his first choice." He reached up and squeezed Zelenka's shoulder as he walked past him into the infirmary.

Zelenka sighed. He was tired and hungry and his head hurt. "McKay, even when you are being hero you are pain in the ass," he said out loud to no one in particular.

oOo


	2. Chapter 2

He saw Beckett in the mess the next day. The Scot looked exhausted but Zelenka garnered a small portion of relief that a string for a teabag trailed from the man's mug. A large sandwich was being devoured as Zelenka came to stand beside him, the mesh of the chair back cold under his fingers.

"Go see him, Radek," Beckett said around a mouthful of bread and meat. "Maybe you can convince him to stay in bed without me having to restrain him again."

"Again?" Zelenka echoed before he could stop himself.

Beckett stared at him for a moment, then glanced around to be sure they wouldn't be overheard. "It's been difficult," and his eyes wandered away from Zelenka for a long moment then snapped back. "Very difficult. Fortunately for us he's a pig-headed bugger! Even still…" and he trailed off.

"I did not realize it was so serious," Zelenka said slowly, old, bad memories leaving a taste like blood in his mouth.

"Go see him, Radek," Beckett repeated. "He could use the distraction and I could use the time away," and he huffed with an exasperation Zelenka knew was exaggerated.

"You mean to keep your staff from killing him?"

"That obvious?"

"I have worked with Rodney." Zelenka smiled a little.

"Ah. Yes. Well . . ."

He nodded and started to head towards the infirmary but Carson stopped him.

"We moved him to his quarters once he was out of danger." Beckett shrugged, shoulders dropping heavily. "No reason to keep him in the infirmary and his room was more private."

Zelenka looked at him and scratched his head nervously, then snatched his hand back. "But he's ready for visitors? You are sure?"

Beckett smiled wearily. "No, but I'm sure he's ready to see a friend's face. I mean, besides mine."

Zelenka gnawed at his lip uncertainly, then nodded and headed slowly towards McKay's quarters. He had no idea what he would say. Before he was ready, he was at the door. Taking a deep breath and muttering under his breath in Czech, he knocked. No answer. He knocked again, more loudly.

"Yes, what is it?" demanded a croaky voice imperiously. "If that's you, Carson, you can just leave now. I'm fine and I don't need any more of your magic pills and powders."

Zelenka tried to speak and had to clear his throat. "It is Radek, Dr. Zelenka."

The door whooshed open, the aroma of unwashed clothing and scientist spilling out. Underneath the smell of dirty laundry, he could detect the sharply sour tang of old vomit. McKay stood in the doorway, three day old beard, slept in clothing and hair rumpled and pointy enough to rival Colonel Sheppard's. Zelenka started to smile until he noticed McKay's eyes, red-rimmed and exhausted.

"May I come in?" he asked in a softer voice than he normally spoke in. McKay glared at him suspiciously for a long moment, then hobbled carefully out of the way, wincing as he sat down heavily on the bed, his gaze bright and glittering on Zelenka's face.

"Carson send you?" he asked, the words a little fast and high-pitched.

Zelenka raised an eyebrow and before answering, tipped a chair forward, spilling clothes onto the floor and sat down. "I asked how you were. He said to come see for myself." He glanced around the room, noticing several of McKay's highly prized diplomas and pictures were askew on the walls. Something glinted, and he realized it was a shard of glass from something that had been hurled at the wall, it's contents staining the smooth whiteness.

"Yes, well, about time you showed up. I hear you were the one Weir sent through to try and find the gate address of Ford's planet?" McKay's tone was perfectly neutral but Zelenka felt his ears turning red.

"I am sorry. I was not able to pinpoint the address."

He was silenced by McKay's dismissive gesture. He tried not to notice the fine tremors that ran through McKay's body.

"Forget it." Despite his disheveled appearance and hoarse voice, McKay was as high-handed as ever. "Not even I could have done that. But I've been considering during my few lucid moments," and he grimaced slightly, "that maybe we're over thinking this. Maybe something as simple as – "

"Fingerprint powder!" Zelenka interrupted excitedly.

"I am not sure I'd be so pleased to have been on the same wavelength as a chemically overdosed individual," McKay replied nastily, looking peeved, "but yes."

Zelenka rolled his eyes. "You are just annoyed that I already had thought," and he smirked at McKay, then stared in horror as McKay's eyes rolled up in his head and he started shaking so violently he landed on the floor, bashing his head against the metal bed leg. The blood smeared on the white floor in a bizarre Jackson Pollock design. Zelenka clapped a hand to his com so hard his ear rang.

#"Dr. Beckett to McKay's quarters immediately"!#

#"I'm nearly there, Radek".# came the calm response.

Zelenka knelt beside McKay, trying frantically to remember if he should be holding him down or talking to him or stuffing something in his mouth. Beckett shoved him aside, not ungently and peeled back one of McKay's eyelids, flicking a light to check for dilation.

"What happened?" he asked as he quickly and economically took vitals and injected McKay with something.

"We, we were just talking!" Zelenka's hands fluttered. "About finding gate addresses in DHD's using fingerprint powder."

Carson shot him a quick stare. "Why?"

Zelenka shrugged, eyes wide. "Just a puzzle. It is problem that will come up again." He gestured helplessly and stared down at McKay who was now just twitching. "It was something to speak of, something…" and he waved a hand awkwardly.

Beckett's face relaxed into lines of regret and he nodded. "Something beside this," and he jerked his head down towards where McKay now lay, blinking, breathing heavily. Carson sat back on his heels and let out a long breath.

"Yes," agreed Zelenka. He became aware he was kneeling in something dark and smelly and lifted his hand with a pained expression.

Beckett's lips twisted into something that was almost a smile. "He's fine, or he will be. Help me get the silly git onto the bed." He grunted as they wrestled the unresisting McKay up onto the bed. "He's just still dealing with the fallout from the withdrawal. I tried to keep in an IV since his stomach is still touchy, but they kept getting ripped out." He pulled an alcohol swipe and bandage from his pocket and cleaned and bandaged the cut on Rodney's head.

McKay roused and started wildly striking out from side to side and shouting. Beckett caught at his wrists and spoke loudly.

"Rodney! It's Carson. You're just having a dream." McKay's eyes flew all the way open and color washed across the stubbled cheeks. He sat up, jerking his arms away from Carson when he tried to help him and fixing his eyes on an invisible point on the other side of the room.

"Tis only to be expected, Rodney, and nothing to be ashamed of," remonstrated Beckett gently. "Your body's undergone a trauma. You need to give yourself time to recover."

"Yeah? Well, Colonel Sheppard doesn't have time, so my body's just going to have to get with it!" McKay shouted furiously, voice cracking. "I injected the enzyme, I got back here and now it's over! I don't need you telling me what I am and am not capable of!" and McKay turned his back and started scrabbling through the piles of debris on the floor.

Beckett exhaled heavily through his nose. Without another word he rose and headed for the door. When Zelenka got up to follow him, McKay whirled around. "Not you, Radek." . For the first time, Zelenka noticed the red weals on McKay's wrists. Rodney noticed his gaze and yanked down his sleeves to cover the marks.

Zelenka looked from McKay's stubborn gaze to Beckett.

The doctor's face softened. "Stay with him, lad, if that's what he wants. I'll be close by if ye need me, Rodney."

McKay didn't even look at him. "The sooner I figure out where that Hive ship was going, the sooner the Daedalus can get there to look for Sheppard and the others."

"Rodney, if you push too hard you'll just have a relapse," Beckett said, his voice completely neutral.

"If you're not willing to help me, Carson, just get out!" and McKay punctuated the last three words with a poke to Beckett's chest. Beckett just gazed back at him impassively, and Zelenka caught McKay when his legs gave out, easing him gently back down onto the bed. He buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Carson." The words came muffled but audible. The Scot just squeezed McKay's shoulder.

"I know you are, lad," and with a last look at Zelenka, he headed out of the room. They sat in silence for a moment after the door shushed closed behind him.

"This isn't supposed to happen to me," McKay said, raising his face from his hands. "I couldn't think of what else to do. I had to get away. I had to take enough to be sure I could get away."

"And you did. What did you tell Weir?" and Zelenka pitched his voice higher, imitating Rodney, "'I was _amazing_.'"

McKay laughed a little, gulping. "I've got to figure out the planet coordinates, Radek. This can't be for nothing." Zelenka closed his eyes momentarily against the anguish in McKay's voice.

"Rodney," and he spoke very carefully. "No matter what happens, is not for nothing. 'No one has love greater than this, that someone should surrender his soul in behalf of his friends,'" he quoted softly.

"And if the friends still die it is meaningless!" McKay replied harshly. "I don't have time for this drivel. I need you to smuggle me in a laptop and my notepad." He snapped his fingers rapidly, gazing off into the distance but before he could continue specifying his other demands, Zelenka was shaking his head. McKay's glare would have frozen a lab tech at forty paces but Radek was immune.

"Rodney, you cannot pretend this never happened. You cannot convince me this is just all part of your brilliant plan to save Colonel Sheppard and your team."

The crooked mouth took on an ugly expression. "As you can see, I'm perfectly well." McKay spoke rapidly as always, but the hands that gestured as widely as ever were shaking. "Since it's obvious no one can get that power hungry pseudoscientist to release me, I need your help so I can get back to work!"

Zelenka's words fell heavily into the silence that followed. "Carson is just trying to protect you from yourself." He winced at the expression of betrayal in McKay's eyes. It was rapidly drowned in the anger that rose.

"Just because you wouldn't have had the courage to do it you're trying to make sure I fail," McKay lashed out.

Zelenka took a deep breath through his nose and adjusted his glasses with trembling hands, muttering in Czech under his breath. "When Dr. Beckett says you are well enough then I will help you."

"As if I needed help from you," McKay said, lip curling contemptuously. "You'll always be nothing more than my comic sidekick and it just eats you up. I'd thought that for Colonel Sheppard you'd at least be able to rise above your petty jealousies."

"You didn't need my help for the Arcturus experiment. Who was the joke that time?" The words hung in the air between them.

Zelenka ripped his glasses off carelessly and rubbed his eyes, grinding the heel of his hand into the sockets painfully, horrified at his loss of control. "I am sorry, Rodney. You are ill. I should not be saying such things to you."

Rodney was shaking his head, shoulders slumped. All the animation had completely left his face. "I've got to do something, Radek. I can't just sit here," and his hands jittered where they rested on his legs.

oOo

"Carson says he's all right." Weir regarded him steadily over her steepled fingers.

"Then he is all right," Radek replied with more assurance than he felt.

"I'd like your opinion."

Zelenka blinked nervously and adjusted his glasses. "My opinion? Surely Dr. Beckett is more qualified to decide if he has recovered."

Weir raised an eyebrow, her mouth quirking. "You are one of Rodney's closest friends, Radek. I'd like to know how you feel he's doing. You've spent time with him over the last few days. Do you believe he's ready to start working again?"

The faint scent of Elizabeth's perfume reached him across the desk. It smelled like lilies. Water lilies. Much better, Radek decided, than Rodney's room. The low hum of the gate tech talking with one of the new arrivals morphed into McKay's voice desperately pleading to go back to work.

"Will Dr. Beckett be distributing tranquilizers for the rest of us?" he joked a little feebly. At the expression on her face he cleared his throat uncomfortably and straightened. "No," he said, his face a little sad. "I do not believe he is ready." Weir's face didn't change and he went on. "But I believe you must let him go anyway."

She hadn't taken her eyes from his face while he spoke. He shifted in the chair, grateful not to be in the man-eating couch. Weir smiled suddenly, a brilliant heart-stopping rare smile.

"Thank you, Radek. That's exactly what Carson said."

Zelenka smiled back. "That is what I thought he told me." Elizabeth's smile widened and she glanced down at her watch.

Zelenka leaped to his feet so violently he knocked the chair over. "I am sorry, I know how busy you are," he began before she could speak as he grabbed the chair and set it back upright, hastily edging towards the door of her office.

"Radek," she stopped him. "I was going to ask if you'd eaten dinner yet?"

Zelenka goggled at her for a moment before he could respond. "Uh, no, I have not."

"Would you care to join me?" she asked smoothly.

He shoved his glasses back up his nose. "I would be honored."

oOo

Zelenka firmly closed the door to Beckett's office behind him and settled in the chair in front of Carson's desk. Beckett looked up from a file he was reviewing, a little startled.

"Something the matter, Radek?"

Zelenka cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms. "So why did you say Rodney was ok to go back to work?"

Beckett laid down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "Why did you?"

Zelenka snorted. "Because his brain was actually going faster than his mouth for once. Something was going to blow."

Chuckling, Carson Beckett nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. I couldn't handle one more diva outburst. He might still melt down out there, but I suspect Major Lorne is more than able to cope with it. He appears to be a capable man. Surely they'll bring the Colonel and his team back safely."

"I am just wishing I could be there when he finally speaks to Colonel Sheppard."

Beckett had been taking a long drink of tea which he snorted through his nose at Zelenka's words. Grabbing a wound compress, he mopped the spilled tea up off the report. "Can't you just hear him?" And he began gesturing wildly and said in a slightly nasal voice, "Do you know the agony I went through to locate you, Colonel! It makes childbirth labor pale in comparison!"

Zelenka started giggling himself, then ran his fingers through his hair so it stood on end and slouched back in the chair, throwing one arm over the back and drawled, "Oh, come on, Rodney, you interrupted me with Wraith Queen. Couldn't you have given me a few minutes more?"

"Why am I not surprised you were playing the Captain Kirk card, while I was fighting that voodoo sheep loving Scot to release me so I could save you!" Beckett managed to snark out and then collapsed in mirth.

Zelenka tried to smirk like John Sheppard, though it just looked like he was constipated, and said, "I always considered myself more the Chekov type than Kirk. There's something so charming about those Eastern Europeans."

Wiping away the tears of laughter, Beckett flailed a hand weakly. "Oh my Lord, Radek, wouldn't it just be priceless!"

Zelenka was laughing himself, smoothing his hair back down, when his hand found the old computer chip in his pocket, and he was suddenly cold with the remembrance that he had, yet again, nearly lost one of his comrades. He looked at Carson, all traces of laughter gone. "Do you know this would not be nearly as funny if we had not just nearly lost him? And I am afraid perhaps, after all this we will have lost him still."

Beckett sobered as well. "I know it," he said heavily. "But he'll be all right. It will just take some time."

Zelenka's fingers traced the worn edges of the chip, the once sharp metal dulled by long years of handling. He pulled it out and studied it, then glanced up at the other man. "I know, Carson. I'm just surprised how much I'll miss the annoying bastard until he's back."


End file.
